Margaret gathered from this trifling conversation, on what an intimate footing he was at Wardenscourt. She felt sick to death. She never lifted her eyes from the pavement, and scarcely knew where she was going, nor what her companions were talking about. She was occupied with one feeling, that he must think it strange and indelicate that she was of the party, and that she wished that some one would tell him that they believed him to be in London.
But they were too much engrossed with the strange old tomb.
"This granite chest—look, Lucy! how curious!" exclaimed Harriet. "And what a sword—immense! can you lift it, Mr. Haveloc?"
He raised it a little off the lid.
"It is chained down, you see," he said, "because it was once stolen. And my ancestor had more trouble than it was worth in getting it back again."
"What time was that?" asked Lady Raymond.
"In the reign of William the Third," he replied.
"Has this tomb ever been opened?" asked Harriet.
"Yes. In my father's time."